


I Didn't Choose Them

by enifmiimfine (gahhhastly)



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2021, Andrew looks at his relationship with the word Family and the Foxes, Angst, Gen, Hopeful Ending, M/M, POV Andrew Minyard, Post-Canon, Sensory Overload, especially his relationship with Aaron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29048631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gahhhastly/pseuds/enifmiimfine
Summary: If Andrew was forced to hear that god awful song one more time, he was going to stab Nicky.Nicky’s listening to a song on repeat in the shower and Andrew is not a fan. Neil helps him deal with the aftermath.Mixtape Exchange Fic inspired byChosen Family by Rina Sawayama
Relationships: Andrew Minyard & The Foxes, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 7
Kudos: 69
Collections: AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2021





	I Didn't Choose Them

**Author's Note:**

  * For [resistgenerals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/resistgenerals/gifts).



> I hadn’t heard this song before I got assigned it for the exchange. Fun fact about me is occasionally I have Very Strong Reactions to songs. It can be positive, but it is usually negative in a This Song Is Causing Me Distress For A Reason I Cannot Identify kind of way. And that happened when I first heard Chosen Family.
> 
> To clarify, I don’t think it’s a bad song, I actually think objectively it's very beautiful. My reaction was a completely subjective emotional response and not at all indicative of the quality of the song. But I didn’t know how I was going to write a fic for it. I really didn’t want to let resistgenerals down, and I didn’t want to have to bother the mods for a switch, so as a last ditch effort I put it on repeat while I showered.
> 
> Shower thoughts are magical, and that is where the beginnings of this fic formed. Since then while writing this I have listened to the song dozens of times, and while I still don’t personally enjoy it, it doesn’t grate on my nerves anymore, and it’s inspired me to think about the characters and relationships from a new perspective. It helped me gain more insight into them and into myself, and I am very grateful for the opportunity to have done so!
> 
> @resistgenerals - This might be more angsty than you were looking for, but I really hope you still enjoy it! It’s my first real attempt at Andrew’s POV. His reaction to the song is not the same as mine was because obviously we are different, but his sensory overload is based on my own (not this song related) experiences. It was also heavily informed by this quote from Nora in the extra content about [other words Andrew can’t stand.](https://korakos.tumblr.com/post/136163452602/does-andrew-have-any-other-words-he-cant-stand)
>
>> Andrew’s last trigger word is “family”, which is why he’s so quick to correct Nicky whenever Nicky wants to protest that they’re family. “Family” is paperwork, is heavy hands and hot mouths and pain and hunger, is withheld meals and false hopes, is Tilda mistaking Andrew for Aaron and beating him black and blue. “Family” is a toxic excuse for things people put up with, a reason we accept the tragedies and inconveniences forced upon us.
> 
> **CW: Sensory overload, mentions of dissociation/depersonalization, smoking cigarettes as a coping mechanism (do not do this friends, once you start it's hard to stop), allusions to Andrew’s past abuse in foster care and self harm (not explicit), brief mention of Drake’s attack, Aaron killing him, and Aaron’s trial.**

If Andrew was forced to hear that god awful song one more time, he was going to stab Nicky. Nicky had been in the shower for almost ten minutes, playing the same song on repeat, and Andrew hated it. He  **_hated_ ** it, with the closest thing to passion that he could muster over something as inconsequential as a song. 

The first time it played, he was mostly able to just block it out. He had gotten out of bed and went into the living room, which is farther from the bathroom, not that it made much of a difference with the dorm’s paper thin walls, opened the window and started to smoke, looking out over campus and thinking about nothing. But when the song ended and then started right back up again, Andrew’s patience went from a six on a scale of ten to a three, and as much as he didn’t want to put the effort into breaking down the door and having to clean up Nicky’s blood, if the song played for a third time he absolutely would go in there are stab him.

He didn't care that Nicky was in the shower, but the idea of touching his cousin’s naked body made him vaguely nauseous. Andrew considered the issue and was sure he could find a way to stab Nicky without actually having to touch him. He took a long drag of his cigarette, consciously feeling the smoke travel down his throat into his chest. He remembered how much his knife throwing had improved since Neil had corrected his grip, and figured this wouldn’t be a bad time to practice on a live target. He exhaled the smoke out the window.

Andrew was alone in the dorm room, which had become somewhat routine for Sunday mornings when they stayed on campus this year. They only made it down to Columbia about once a month because Neil had vice captain duties, and while Kevin could be on his own now he usually still stayed in the same city as Andrew, and he preferred staying on campus as well. Kevin and Thea were officially dating now, but they had an open relationship and Kevin finally felt comfortable enough to experiment with other women. He had spent last night with one of the Vixens and he was probably still at her apartment, while Neil had left for a run about an hour and a half ago.

Nicky had come barging in fifteen minutes ago, complaining about how Matt and Dan were making his bathroom unsanitary with their morning shower sex, and how he had to get ready for the PSU Queer Students of Color Association Brunch today, and could he “please” borrow their shower. 

That had been strike one. Nicky knew all the words Andrew prohibited him from saying, even if he didn’t understand the reasons why he couldn’t say them, but he still had a hard time thinking before he spoke. He flinched as soon as he realized what he said though, so Andrew didn’t bother reminding him to watch himself. He just waved him off towards the bathroom. 

It wasn’t like every time Andrew heard the words he would suddenly spiral. Usually they had to be said to him specifically, not just around him, but even that wasn’t a hard and fast rule, and saying them himself either felt fine or it didn’t. Sometimes they didn’t bother him much at all, sometimes someone could ask Aaron across the table to please pass the salt and it would send him groping for his knife. It depended on the context and a host of other factors; who said it, how and why they used the word, if they were making eye contact, and most importantly how Andrew was feeling in general at that moment. 

Nicky’s “please” had barely registered and Andrew’s flat disposition had been mostly undisturbed, so he’d let it slide. He felt slightly less relaxed than he did before Nicky had said it, but he wasn’t so delicate as to bitch about discomfort that was par for the course in his life. Then Nicky turned the music on and played a song that repeated another of the hated words over and over and over, and any of Andrew’s lingering relaxation evaporated.

The song was nearing it’s conclusion again, and Andrew thought that considering he claimed to be in a rush, maybe Nicky would get lucky and finish his shower before it restarted. It was highly unlikely. Nicky’s showers in the dorm were never shorter than 30 minutes, he claimed he had to make up for all the quick washes in the locker room. 

Still, Andrew wasn’t looking forward to the confrontation. He could already hear Nicky’s shrieks echoing in his head, Kevin would complain if Nicky was sidelined from practice, Wymack and Bee would lecture him. It would all be awfully loud. Maybe he should just flush Nicky’s phone down the toilet instead. It would be more expedient in making the music stop, and it would probably piss Nicky off even more than stabbing him would. 

As the song started again with the spoken  _ “Where do I belong?”  _ in an obnoxious breathy voice, Andrew gritted his teeth in annoyance and ground out his cigarette on the windowsill. He could hear Nicky singing along, repeating the overused metaphors and bland imagery, the empty promise of  _ “You’re alright now.”  _

He didn’t know what it was about this song that sparked such a reaction in him. He’d heard plenty of saccharine pop melodies that didn’t phase him in the slightest, he could probably listen to the Barney soundtrack on repeat and all that would do is bore him. But the more he heard of this, the stronger his hatred of it became.

Andrew slid off the windowsill and headed towards the bathroom, but before he reached it the dorm’s front door opened and Neil walked in, sweaty and slightly out of breath from his run. Andrew didn’t slow on his way across the suite, flicking a glance over at Neil. He was in his running gear, extremely short two-in-one shorts, an orange PSU sweatband pushing his hair back, and an oversized cotton t-shirt. The sight of him activated Andrew further, the music suddenly sounding louder and the room feeling smaller. His skin started feeling slightly too tight as he reached the bathroom door and pulled a knife out of his armband.

Neil could probably tell something was up as soon as he walked in the door, but he didn’t say anything, he just followed Andrew’s movement across the room with his eyes. When Andrew started jimming the bathroom door lock Neil walked over and leaned his back against the wall next to the bathroom door so he was facing Andrew. He crossed his arms over his chest and held his left foot flat against the wall with a bent knee. 

Neil looked down at Andrew’s attempts to pick the lock without breaking it completely. Andrew could feel the heat radiating out of his body. Neil smelt like sweat and humidity and the artificial fragrance of his deodorant. The combination with everything else going on made Andrew feel like choking. There was too much of everything, and if the music didn’t stop immediately he was going to lose control. He took a deep breath and moderated the force of his movements, trying to not snap the thin blade or the locking mechanism.

“That’d be easier with a pick, the blade is too wide, you’re going to snap it.” Neil said.

He heard and registered Neil speaking to him, but the song overpowered everything else with it’s driving bassline and gimmicky percussive effects. It made it too hard to split his focus, so Andrew didn’t respond but continued his efforts on the lock. He had to keep reminding himself that he didn’t want to break the door, although he couldn’t articulate why.

There was a part of his mind that knew how annoying it would be to have to replace the knob and to have to deal with their only bathroom not being able to lock for a few days until they got a replacement. But even simple reasoning like that couldn’t penetrate his sensory overload, so it came through to his conscious mind as “don’t break the door for reasons.” However, his frustration and distress were getting to a level where “reasons” weren’t going to be enough to stop him anymore. His movements started to get more jerky and forceful as every nerve in his body was screaming at him that he needed to end this  **_now_ ** . 

A hand blocked his view of the doorknob; Neil’s hand, it’s sudden appearance was jarring despite it’s familiar shape and scars. Andrew’s hands stopped moving, and for the second it took his brain to process the new visual information the song faded into the background. Just for a second, but it’s enough for Andrew to take another deep breath and look up at Neil. By the time his eyes found Neil’s he felt like clawing out his own eardrums again. There was some emotion in Neil’s bright blue eyes that Andrew couldn’t identify, and before he could figure it out he sensed Neil’s hand moving between their bodies, away from the door. 

Andrew quickly stepped backwards. Neil’s hand wasn’t moving towards him but any touch right now would be enough to send him over the edge, breaking the last of his self-possession that he was just barely holding onto already. He wouldn’t be able to stay present, would have to instead observe what was happening from a distance, safe and dissociated. He hated when that happened, it felt out of control in the weakest possible way.

Without another look at Neil he turned and headed out the door, making his way to the stairwell. He didn’t run, but when he reached the heavy fire door he pulled it open so hard it hit the concrete wall behind him. The cool metal felt grounding in his hand, but he let go quickly and jogged up the stairs to the roof. 

The first breath of cool fresh air felt expansive, like there was suddenly not just more room around him but also inside him. The roof was quiet, the only noises were the sounds of some birds chirping and an occasional gust of wind. He immediately felt more settled, but still he didn’t go to any of his usual spots around the roof’s edge, instead opting to lean against a generator towards the center of the roof. 

He reached for his cigarettes in his pants pocket and realized he left them on the windowsill inside. He cursed himself internally and slid down the side of the generator, sitting with his legs spread out in front of him. The cold metal felt good against his back, pulling him more securely back into himself. He heard the roof door open but didn’t look over at who had come out, instead continuing to look out into the middle distance and attempt not to think or feel too much.

His cigarettes and lighter landed in the space between his legs. He didn’t look up but slid his gaze to the side a bit and saw that Neil had put sweatpants on before following him out. He still wasn’t ready to talk yet so he redirected his gaze to the cigarettes without looking up. He lit one for himself, then slid the pack across the roof a few feet away. 

Like usual, Neil understood what he wanted, and it comforted him and alarmed him at the same time. The message was for him to stay, but not too close. Neil walked over to the pack of cigarettes and lit one, sat down, then stared out at the distance too, not asking any questions or saying anything at all. Andrew trusted him to wait until Andrew wanted to talk, and trusted him to leave if he didn’t want to be there, and also trusted that he did want to be there. That unusual sensation was too much for him to focus on right now, so he went back to settling himself down to his baseline apathy.

The cigarette helped ground him. The smell of the smoke blocking out every other scent, the feel of the filter between his lips and his fingers, connecting them as one in a way his body alone could not, the pull of the smoke down his throat and into his lungs, his lungs simultaneously expanding with his inhale and feeling smaller as the smoke filled them, and finally the exhale releasing it back out, making him feel lighter but also empty. The familiarity of the process also helped, knowing that he will feel it again and again, not to mention the actual nicotine soothing his nerves.

He had smoked it down to the filter by the time he felt in control enough to look over at Neil. Neil was also looking at him, his cigarette barely burned down to the halfway point. They sat in silence a little while longer, just looking at each other.

“So,” Neil said, opening the conversation if Andrew wanted to have it but not forcing it.

“I don’t like that song. Nicky should know better.” Andrew said, holding his hand out for the pack of cigarettes. Neil tossed it over and Andrew lit another.

“He knew you hated that song?” Neil asked, his expression slightly confused and more concerned. It stirred something inside Andrew, not that Andrew could name it. The only emotions he could easily identify were rage, annoyance, and fear, and whatever the fuck Neil made him feel. He didn’t have a word for that one, nor did he feel like he needed one. Still, the experience of feeling anything he couldn’t easily block out put him on edge.

“He knows I do not like the word family.” Andrew responded. It was more than just that one word though, it was the entire song. Unfortunately, Andrew knew every lyric, he could recall them perfectly after the first time it played. He did not think it would have affected him so harshly a year ago, but things had changed.

Before Neil came into his life, before he almost lost him, before he got him back and accepted that he needed him, and by extension that meant he had to keep all the Foxes around, Andrew could have written off the idea of a “Chosen Family” more easily. He would never have believed he would choose to have those kinds of ties again. Not after Cass. 

Aaron was the one exception, which was easy to overlook. He was not just his brother, he was his twin. He was Andrew’s and Andrew could never just write him off, no matter how much easier it would have been. It was hard to explain to anyone else, but he knew that Aaron understood. He knew Aaron felt it towards him too, even if he tried to deny that Andrew felt it at all. Still, he didn’t choose his connection with Aaron, he was born to it. 

Neither of them were particularly happy about their connection, for that matter. It was a fact of their existence and had been since they first discovered each other, that they were consequential to each other in some major way. Andrew knew from the moment he heard about Aaron, before they even met in person, that he needed to protect him, that his life was both connected to and more important than his own. Andrew had had more foster siblings than you could count on two hands by that point, but he had never felt for any of them a fraction of what he felt for this boy he had never even met. He didn’t understand it and they both tried to fight it, but neither of them had been able to suppress it completely.

He thought back to Aaron’s trial a few weeks ago. When he had been forced to admit on the stand that the reason he finally gave up on Cass after years of enduring Drake was because Aaron was at risk. He remembered the look on Aaron’s face when he put together that Andrew had given up on Cass for him, that even after everything else Andrew had given up for her, he wouldn’t give up Aaron. He remembered Aaron’s testimony too, how he explained that seeing Andrew being attacked felt like an attack on his own person, but somehow worse, magnified. How killing Drake had not been a choice, it was a survival instinct.

Before the trial Tilda’s death and Aaron’s refusal to see how Andrew had done it for him had come up in more than half of their sessions with Betsy. Since the trial, Aaron had only brought it up once to say that he understood now where Andrew was coming from now. Andrew argued that Aaron had always understood, he just refused to believe what Andrew said before. Aaron didn’t respond to that, but Andrew knew it was true. He knew that Aaron still wished that he hadn’t killed Tilda, and that he would probably never get over it completely. He would still be putting up with Tilda’s abuse if Andrew hadn’t done it, all in the name of family. Which was just more proof that nothing good comes from family.

Andrew didn’t choose Nicky either, but accepted him as necessary. He wouldn’t have lived with Luther, no matter what happened after he got rid of Tilda. He hadn’t figured out exactly what he was going to do yet when they got the news that Nicky was offering to take custody of them. He tolerated him for lack of a better option, and Nicky had served his purpose. Even though he didn’t ask Nicky to come back for them he appreciated it in his own way all the same. Before he was eighteen he still needed Nicky, and after it was better to have him around. But that didn’t make them family in Andrew’s eyes.

He’d been forced into thirteen “families” by the time he was twelve years old. Those people taught him what family really was. Using people for what they could give you, be it a check from the government or a warm body. And once you were no longer of use or when they could no longer ignore the parts of you that made them uncomfortable, family either threw you away or neglected you until someone else was forced to take you on as their problem, because all families were based on manipulation and exploitation. On having someone else around to hurt when you didn’t feel like hurting yourself. 

Andrew wasn’t heartless, even if he wished he could be. Still, his affection for Nicky translated to protection and tolerance, he was not going to  _ open a bottle and celebrate _ him, and he did not want to. Just because they were stuck with each other does not make anything alright. Neither his past nor Nicky’s was magically healed. And they had not been through the same pain. 

“That makes sense.” is all Neil said in response, no rebuttal or joke about the list of words Andrew couldn’t stand. Andrew hated him for that. For understanding and accepting him, for proving wrong the lessons that Andrew had spent years teaching himself in pain and blood and destroyed hopes. 

“How do you feel about friends?” Neil asked, genuinely. It was obvious he wanted to know what Andrew thought, not that he was trying to force him to accept some kind of social obligation. Andrew remembered Nicky telling him about the time Neil asked if they were friends while he was in Easthaven, and how Neil had reacted in the beginning whenever someone did something nice for him.

“Why don’t you ask one of your actual friends that question.” Andrew replied. He didn’t have a problem with the term ‘friend,’ but it was hard to answer any question about how he felt about something, and he didn’t have the energy right now to try. 

He didn’t say it to be nasty. He did not think of Neil as a friend. Neil was… something else. The person who came to mind when he thought of the word was Renee. And maybe more of the banal sentiments from the song applied to their relationship, but that didn’t change the fact that family was a toxic concept and to choose a family was asking for abuse. 

“Actually, since Baltimore I started to think of them all as the other word.” Neil said, shrugging slightly. And that was interesting. 

Neil had also suffered because of the idea of family. Blood family, crime family, take your pick. If Neil could have existed separate from the idea that you are tied to the people around you who call themselves your family, his life would have been much better off. Andrew knew he hadn’t believed in family when he came to Palmetto, and he wondered why he bothered to change his mind, and if he was better off for it.

“Why?” Andrew asked aloud. He finished his second cigarette and ground the butt out on the roof but didn’t light up a third yet.

“It wasn’t really a decision, it just kinda happened.” Neil explained, “After Stuart killed my father, when I was in the hospital, the FBI agents said none of you would want to see me again. I mostly believed them. I selfishly put everyone in danger and I thought I was going to have to leave and force you to pull out of the championships. I knew I had to see everyone one last time though, if only to apologise and say goodbye, so I forced the meeting at the motel. 

“It was the first time I’d been back to Baltimore since we ran away, and looking at the streets and buildings on the drive over I realized that Baltimore still felt like home to some part of me, and I hated it. I wanted home to be what you gave me, I wanted it to be the Foxhole Court and the Foxes, but I didn’t think that would ever be possible. 

“Then you told me I wasn’t going anywhere. You said, ‘You’re staying with  _ us _ .’ and they all agreed. They all fought for me and protected me, because I’m a Fox. Because of you all I was able to escape the misery I was born to, so it was natural for me that the Foxes took over that space.”

“Why would you want anyone to take that space,” Andrew asked, “after everything your family did to you, why would you want another one.”

Neil considered that for a moment. “I guess because of my mom.” he said.

“Your mother was abusive.” Andrew cut in, unimpressed.

“I guess, but only because she had to be.” Neil excused her behavior too easily, but Andrew didn’t contradict him again. “Everything she did, she did for me. The reason we ran in the first place was because she wouldn’t risk my father killing me. She did terrible things to keep us safe over the years, but really it was all to keep  _ me  _ safe. To give  _ me _ a chance. I wouldn’t have survived without her, and she probably wouldn’t have fought so hard if it wasn’t for me. All that time together, just the two of us, it meant something. Even if it wasn’t good, she was still my mother in all the most important ways. You never had that.” 

Andrew agreed with his last sentence at least. He’d never had that unconditional protectiveness. Someone willing to die for his safety. He tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head that said “not until Neil.” He had let Neil in, this conversation was proof, so maybe Neil was his ‘family’ now, if you wanted to define family that way. Andrew did not. 

That also didn’t mean he should open himself up to the rest of Foxes in that way too. Especially not the Upperclassmen. He may tolerate Dan, Matt, and Allison more now, but they weren’t his family and he never would have chosen them. They wouldn’t have chosen him either, if not for exy. They still saw him as a monster to some degree, and he preferred it that way. He wouldn’t open himself up to more.

Besides Neil the only other people anyone could claim he actually chose were Kevin, Wymack, and Bee, but he couldn’t adequately explain the logic behind those relationships to himself right now. He was sure Bee would have something to say about it but he didn’t really care. He was comfortable with what he had now. He didn’t need more people, he didn’t need their kind of ‘understanding,’ he didn’t want anyone to rewrite or fix his past.

He didn’t have any desire to redefine ‘family’ for himself, but he did know now that it was possible to let people in without destroying himself completely in the process. He knew his relationship with Neil was a good thing, and there was a part of him that felt more settled now that he and Aaron were working things out. But trying to replicate either of those relationships was pointless. It wouldn’t work and he wouldn’t gain anything from trying. He looked over at Neil, who was still watching him.

“I didn’t choose the Foxes.” Andrew said. He knew Neil must have caught the lyrics of the song before and would understand the reference.

“Neither did I.” he responded, “But we found each other anyway. Maybe when people say you can’t choose your— you know, maybe part of that really is true. Even if you’re not blood related, you can’t pick who you’ll relate to, who will be in your life, who will put up with your shit. The Foxes are that for me. They’re there for you too, whether you want them or not. You are a Fox.”

Andrew considered that; he was fairly certain the Foxes will always be a part of his life from now on, as long as he had Neil. The more time he spent with them, the less he found himself hating them. He wasn’t going to force his relationships anywhere that made him uncomfortable, but the Foxes were getting more comfortable all the time. They were not a family in his eyes, but he was a Fox.

“Nicky’s done by now.” Andrew said, standing up and walking towards the door. He would have to remind Nicky to watch how he used that word, and that they would never be a family. But maybe he would drop a hint or two as to why objected to the idea. He doubted Nicky would figure it out, but maybe Neil would spell it out for him. Andrew didn’t care either way, but it was more than he had been willing to do in the past. He didn’t dwell too much on why.


End file.
